


Tell Me (What is Love)

by Carcharias



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ChanSoo Week, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carcharias/pseuds/Carcharias
Summary: Chansoo week drabbles, the ones I can manage to write. I may go back and write the rest if I can.





	1. once in a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: Harmony, G

_Kyungsoo!_

Kyungsoo groans, opens his eyes. It’s dark, but not the dark of his bedroom, the dark of a forest in twilight, half asleep, half awake. He feels off, like the subtle, uneven lurch of a dock or when you lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling too long.

“Kyungsoo-yah!” He blinks at the voice, familiar and echoing. Chanyeol lumbers around his truck, wood piled high in his arms. He’s bundled in a giant black hoodie, coat, scarf and beanie while his bowlegs inexplicably protrude in holey skinny jeans, in all their knobbly kneed glory. He trips on nothing, nearly losing the wood and his next “Kyungsoo-yah” turns into an aborted yelp. Kyungsoo laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Chanyeol whines but his face is crinkled in a smile. He drops the wood by the fire—oh, there’s a fire—then flops ungracefully next to Kyungsoo. “And don’t fall asleep on me, you said we’d watch the sunset.”

“‘M not asleep.” Chanyeol just hums, reaches out to play with Kyungsoo’s scarf. The world settles and Kyungsoo feels great. He tugs at Chanyeol’s coat. “Cold, come here.” Chanyeol scrambles to wrap himself around Kyungsoo, a great black blanket of warmth and cotton, chin nestled in Kyungsoo’s hair.

Like that, they watch the sun sink, turn the sky pink then slate then navy. Chanyeol shifts and pulls his coat tighter around them, and Kyungsoo inhales the smell of Chanyeol’s hoodie, his favorite one, strong and woodsy and comforting as if it never faded. 

The stars are bright, and Kyungsoo imagines he can feel their warmth on his face, from lightyears in the past. There’s a low thump, thump in his ear and he feels his heart slow to match it.

Kyungsoo smiles and closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Once in a lifetime you were mine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPdaxcwhEag)


	2. boo love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Sweet/Bitter, NC-17

He’d begged Kyungsoo, pleaded and cajoled him into coming on vacation with him, “please, Kyungsoo-yah, you went on vacation with Sehun, but not with me,” he’d said, “it’ll be fun, I promise, we never get to go anywhere together,” he’d said; crouched forward in his best puppy look. 

“You went on vacation with Sehun too,” Kyungsoo had said, but still ended up bundled on a plane to Japan.

No exercise, no snowboarding, Chanyeol’d promised, only sightseeing and great food and relaxing and sake and more food, and Kyungsoo had laughed fondly, “I’ll go for the food and booze, then,” and Chanyeol had punched the air in success. They end up at a ryokan in the middle of Kyoto, quiet and tucked away down a winding alley, as if the bustling streets of Gion aren’t just a few blocks away. 

No exercise, Chanyeol had promised, but he still drags Kyungsoo across the city from temple to shrine to palace, making sure Kyungsoo doesn’t get swallowed by the crowds, hand wrapped tight around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He mugs for photos, points out pretty things for Kyungsoo to point his camera at. Kyoto is still beautiful despite the grey of winter, but it can barely hold Chanyeol’s attention when Kyungsoo’s bespectacled face is poking out of a lame striped scarf, beanie crammed on his head. Steam rises out of an udon shop and Kyungsoo’s breath mists to match when he smiles at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol barely feels the chill.

Besides, Chanyeol’s seen Kyoto before. ( _You’ve seen me for years,_ he hears Kyungsoo say in his head. _Not relevant,_ he argues).

No exercise, but by the time they return to the ryokan before dinner, light fading and cold settling in, their legs are aching and feet throb despite liberal use of taxis. They practically fall into the ryokan’s onsen, Chanyeol groaning loud when he sinks into the water, muscles rejoicing at the heat. Kyungsoo says nothing, but his cheeks are unusually pink.

“You’re blushing,” Chanyeol grins. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and merely sighs heavily when he finally lowers himself in; it’s Chanyeol’s turn to blush.

Chanyeol sneaks his phone into the onsen to take pictures in the outdoor bath. They’re alone anyway; it’s the off season and the bath is too gorgeous to pass up the chance for aesthetic. Kyungsoo dutifully takes pictures as Chanyeol poses, artfully relaxed against a rock, nearly submerged near a low hanging tree, draped lazily on the ledge and gazing up at the camera, towel on his head.

Chanyeol nearly falls off the underwater seat he’s balanced on when Kyungsoo gently sets the phone down on a dry ledge far from the water’s edge, crouches down to wind a hand through Chanyeol’s damp hair and kiss him, firm and warm from the bath. The towel slips into the water but Chanyeol barely notices, leaning up to meet Kyungsoo, hands clutching at the rock and scrambling to keep upright against the hand in his hair and the lips on his. 

It’s slick, hot, hot, wet and desperate despite how slowly Kyungsoo kisses him, tugs at his lips, moves deliberately against Chanyeol’s mouth, his control only betrayed by the clench of fingers on Chanyeol’s scalp. Chanyeol feels too hot, like he’ll either overheat and pass out from the water or burst into flame like his stupid superpower, and he’s dizzy from it, from the small breathy noises Kyungsoo is making and the way they echo across the tile, magnifying. But when Chanyeol whines, bites at Kyungsoo’s lip for more, Kyungsoo somehow manages to pull back, separate with another heavy sigh.

“I’m hungry,” he says, smiling, lips red and face flushed and Chanyeol absolutely stares as he walks back inside. By the time they get rinsed off and dressed he feels less like he’s going to melt into the floor or combust, and more just loose and relaxed. When Kyungsoo runs his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair to fix it, he simply feels warm.

 

Dinner is a parade of seemingly endless tiny plates, beautiful dish after beautiful dish carefully presented in their small dining room. Kyungsoo types the names of the each dish into his phone, haltingly asking the waitress to repeat the names, slowly, eyes lit up as he takes pictures to remember. They order sake, warm for the winter though the room is plenty cozy. Soon enough, the parade of tiny plates ends and Chanyeol sinks sideways, spread out along the tatami mat floor, thin robe trying its best to stay together despite too much limb.

Kyungsoo lounges forward on the table, his own robe slipping open to a hint of soft skin, and like this, warm and loose with alcohol swimming slow through his veins, it’s hard for Chanyeol to not lean over, so hard to resist. So he doesn’t.

Kyungsoo’s lips tastes like sake, sweeter than even the lemon chuuhi Chanyeol had bought earlier from the vending machine in the street outside, but then he sighs, mouth open and the bite of alcohol seeps onto Chanyeol’s tongue when he licks in eagerly. 

“Upstairs,” Kyungsoo breathes after a moment, and Chanyeol doesn’t have to be told twice, hand in Kyungsoo’s as they shuffle through the dim hallways back to their room. The door closes heavily behind them and then they’re stumbling over the entrance ledge, slippers flung off and light switch ignored in favor of kissing, searching hands pawing at robes, slipping under loose cotton to press into skin, soft and slightly damp from relaxation.

The futons have been set out and they collapse heavily onto them, Chanyeol with a lapful of Kyungsoo, warm and eager and insistent. 

“Off,” Kyungsoo murmurs against Chanyeol’s cheek, trying to shove the robe off his shoulders and Chanyeol leans back to fumble at his own belt. The robe falls away and Kyungsoo runs his hands down Chanyeol’s arms, his chest, presses Chanyeol down into the bed. He leans over Chanyeol to mouth at his jaw, and Chanyeol feels small, feels covered by this tiny man, gasps when he bites at Chanyeol’s neck, his chest, his soft belly, thighs, feels pinned down when Kyungsoo’s mouth wraps around his dick, arm heavy across his hips.

It’s quick, it’s always been quick, how close Chanyeol gets when Kyungsoo sucks him off and soon enough he’s a writhing mess, grunting and pulling at Kyungsoo’s short hair, one hand twisted in the futon. He manages a whimper, “please, Kyungsoo,” and suddenly Kyungsoo is surging up to swallow his gasps, hand tight around him, slick with spit and precome, lips and tongue and teeth insistent. 

Chanyeol reaches down, fumbles blindly past Kyungsoo’s robe and wraps his hand around him, pumps a couple times to hear Kyungsoo whine before guiding their cocks together. It’s slick with sweat and spit and precome and Chanyeol feels like the only thing grounding him is the way their fingers almost lace together as they drag heavy around them.

_“Soo,”_ Chanyeol breathes around their kisses, messy and frantic as he races towards the edge, skin tight and gut aflame. “Kyungsoo—”

“Come on, Yeollie,” Kyungsoo groans, hand working faster and Chanyeol scrambles to keep up. Kyungsoo’s other hand tugs at his hair, his ear, his lips bite hard and Chanyeol comes with a cry and the slight tang of blood in his mouth. He feels Kyungsoo jerk against him after a moment, coming with a long moan sloppily pressed to Chanyeol’s chin.

Hours, or maybe just minutes later, when Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo up by the chin to kiss him slow and deep, all he tastes is Kyungsoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I would throw in the towel for you, boy ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBPw0l26L58)


	3. we went up in smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Wishes/Regrets, G  
> (mama au)

Kyungsoo finally sees the smoke half an hour after leaving the interstate. He speeds up, fingers clenched around the wheel, knuckles white as if it could make the car go faster. It’s okay, though. He’s not going to miss him this time.

Sirens wail as a convoy of emergency vehicles speed the other direction but Kyungsoo barely registers, eyes focused on the grey tower of smoke growing larger on the horizon. His windows are stuck open and he can smell the burning, acrid and horrible, a hint that quickly turns into a smell that permeates the car. 

There’s a police checkpoint, loosely closing off the road because who would drive towards a fire? But Kyungsoo flatly ignores it, blasts right by without a second glance. They’ll follow him, probably. But not the whole way.

The heat builds, more than the normal heat of the day, until Kyungsoo crests a hill and suddenly it’s oppressively hot. The flames lick along the treeline, fire trucks hopelessly battling the rage, helicopters arcing through the smoke. 

It’s futile; only Junmyeon and Minseok combined have been able to put these flames out entirely, Kyungsoo knows—and only after the fact.

He flings himself out of the car, ignoring the yells of firemen and rushes towards the flames. He doesn’t worry, though, sparing no thought for how the inferno whirls above him, crackling deafeningly and heat stealing his voice.

These flames have never hurt him, or any of them.

Inside the treeline Kyungsoo collapses to his knees and reaches out to the scorched earth. She’s feverish beneath his palms but alert, and quickly tells him where the hottest part is, where the highest concentration of rage and pain is, where he’ll find him. He scrambles over downed trunks and through ash, fire licking over his skin hot but never burning, like a too-hot bath.

_Like a day at the spa,_ Kyungsoo had said once a long, long time ago, to make him laugh.

The flames part briefly and between the flickers Kyungsoo sees a figure at the center of collapsed, blackened trees, bright and yellow and red and orange, towering taller than any man. Kyungsoo opens his mouth to yell and coughs immediately, mouth and throat dry. He stumbles forward, but no longer feels the need to rush; he’s found him.

The figure shows no sign that it cares about Kyungsoo’s approach, limbs of fire outstretched and eyes of white flame unseeing, even as Kyungsoo finally stands before it. It’s one of the most beautiful and terrible things Kyungsoo’s ever seen. 

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo croaks, and reaches up through the flames to cup his face. At the touch of his hand the figure spasms, white-hot pits for eyes focused downward at his own. “Yeollie, I’m here, come on, come back,” he says, voice hoarse and whispery but he knows Chanyeol hears him when the body of flame below his palm shudders violently.

The flames shrink, sink back under newly revealed skin, eyes calm to mere embers. He sags heavily against Kyungsoo as his legs buckle, and together they sink to the ground.

Kyungsoo clings to Chanyeol, body so much smaller than it was mere seconds ago, but still so large and solid and _here_ in his arms. He runs fingers over and over through flame-colored hair, feels large hands grip desperately at his leather jacket. Kyungsoo knows he’s babbling, knows there’s a low stream of “it’s okays” and “I’m sorrys” and “I’m heres” coming from his mouth but can’t bring himself to care. It’s been so long.

“You found me,” Chanyeol sobs, quiet into Kyungsoo’s neck. 

“Yes,” he says, and holds tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I've been sleepwalking too close to the fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tzB3JB-0zk4)


	4. kiseki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Yesterday/Tomorrow, PG
> 
> this is gross and sappy and gross

“So what do you think?”

“I think he’s perfect.” Chanyeol’s voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against the glass door separating the shelter office from the cages. If Kyungsoo looks closely he can almost see a tail wagging. 

“I was asking what day you wanted to get him microchipped, but okay,” Kyungsoo says. Half an hour later they finally take Toben home, show him around the apartment, trying to make him comfortable. They needn't have worried; Toben runs a circuit of the apartment seven times before claiming Chanyeol's lap on the couch and falling asleep. Chanyeol is ecstatic. "That's stupidly cute," Kyungsoo says and Chanyeol poses when Kyungsoo snaps a picture.

Chanyeol is still practically buzzing with enthusiasm at the bar a few days later with Jongdae and Baekhyun, showing them picture after picture of Toben on his phone and waxing poetic. Tobennie’s already house trained, Tobennie can fetch, Tobennie loves to snuggle.

“Myongrong’s better,” Baekhyun sniffs, and gets put in a headlock for his sass. Kyungsoo only releases him when the server comes by with their fries.

“Myongrong doesn’t have a picture half as cute as this one.” Chanyeol brandishes his phone with a picture of Kyungsoo and Toben, curled up on the bed, Toben’s little nose pressed to Kyungsoo’s chin. Jongdae coos obnoxiously, pinching Kyungsoo’s cheek but Kyungsoo doesn’t blush. 

“It’s a great picture,” he shrugs. He’s already planning to get it framed for Chanyeol’s desk.

“Moving in together, adopting a dog,” Jongdae changes tack, smiling, “next thing you know you’ll be picking out daycares.” He waggles his eyebrows over his beer and Baekhyun guffaws. Kyungsoo risks a glance at Chanyeol and he looks frozen, smile slipped and resolutely not looking up from his phone. He looks halfway to panic and something twinges in Kyungsoo’s gut.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Kyungsoo says, but Baekhyun merely crows at the shade of red his face has gone. 

“Oooh, Kyungsoo, do you want little Chanyeols,” he teases, “jeez, what a disaster, can you imagine, ferrets everywher—” Chanyeol jolts suddenly out of his funk and slugs him in the shoulder; in the ensuing scuffle and laughter and getting quickly ushered out of the bar, the moment of awkward passes.

But that evening, lying curled up on the bed after cleaning each other up, Kyungsoo’s fingers tracing soft trails through Chanyeol’s hair still damp with sweat, watching his eyelids flutter in dreams, sleep doesn’t catch Kyungsoo for hours.

He wakes up late, morning sun already bright, bed empty and the sounds of cooking from their kitchen. He rolls sleepily out of bed and is greeted immediately at the door by Toben, yipping and wiggling and demanding to be picked up. Kyungsoo complies, tickling the puppy as he pads to the kitchen. He greets Chanyeol with a ight headbutt to the shoulder and gets a hip bump in return.

“Omelettes good?” Chanyeol says, not turning away from the stove as Kyungsoo sits down, lets Toben free. Kyungsoo hums sleepily, lays his head down on the table.

He watches Chanyeol for a few minutes, thinking in that roundabout way of early mornings, thoughts cycling hazily through his brain. Chanyeol wiggling as he flips eggs, humming some top 40 song, Toben wrangling with his new toy in the corner, Chanyeol flushed and sweaty on pillows, Jongdae’s eyebrows, Baekhyun saying “do you want”, Chanyeol’s face last night, they haven’t talked about this much, only hinted, _does Kyungsoo want_

He wants. And suddenly the most important thing is for Chanyeol to know this. Right now. Eloquently. Carefully. Gracefully.

“Marry me.” _Fuck._

Chanyeol spins around, freezes, eyes wide and spatula dripping egg on the floor, much to Toben’s delight. “What?”

Kyungsoo swallows, commits. _Ha._ “Marry me? Please? I don’t— _oh my god._ ” 

Chanyeol’s crying, openly weeping and Kyungsoo rushes over, hands rubbing at Chanyeol’s waist. Chanyeol’s still holding the spatula and Kyungsoo gently takes it from him to set on the counter.

“I’m sorry, sssh,” he says, scrambling for the napkins to try and stop the flood of tears. That’s a pretty clear answer; he’s so _stupid_ , “I just needed to tell you, I’m sorry, it’s okay, that was dumb and if you don’t want to we can forget it—”

“No!” Chanyeol yells and Toben yips from near their feet, startled. “No, I…” Chanyeol hiccups violently, giant eyes wet and shiny and red and searching Kyungsoo’s face, giant hands crumpling several gross napkins into a ball. “Do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo breathes. His hands are shaking and he curls them tighter in Chanyeol’s thin tank top. “What Jongdae said, kids, little Chanyeols—”

“Or little Kyungsoos.” Chanyeol’s voice is thick and wet and he’s still hiccuping but he’s looking at Kyungsoo like he hung the moon and Kyungsoo thinks he might cry too. Instead, he laughs weakly. “Yeah. Or little anyones. I want that, with you, just, maybe marry me first?” Kyungsoo pauses. “No ferrets, though.”

“Not even one ferret?” Chanyeol pouts, and it’s cute even though his face is blotchy and red and a bit snotty.

“ _No,_ definitely not—” but Chanyeol cuts him off, lips mashed to his, salty and wet with tears. It’s not the sloppiest kiss they’ve ever had but it’s definitely in the top five, but neither of them care. Chanyeol’s knees give out, as usual, and they slowly collapse to the floor, sagging against the counter and sliding clumsily down until Kyungsoo is both in Chanyeol’s lap and supporting him. It’s awkward and painful and Toben is yipping and trying to worm his way into their laps and Kyungsoo’s pretty sure Chanyeol’s gonna pull his hair out with how hard he’s gripping Kyungsoo’s head, and the omelettes are going to burn, but who cares in the face of tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tomorrow we'll smile more than today, as long as I can be with you ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwTinTO0o9I)


End file.
